


Carvings

by fenrirs



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Grief, Love Confessions, M/M, Poetry, Post 15.18, Requited Love, Spoilers, Supernatural 15.18 Coda, this is super short cause i'm mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:41:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27414412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenrirs/pseuds/fenrirs
Summary: I love you.Three words, eight letters, too little time to say it back.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 131





	Carvings

**Author's Note:**

> MAJOR SPOILERS FOR 15.18 !!!!!
> 
> i'm literally a mess enjoy 
> 
> twitter: @mickstiel

_I love you._

Three words, eight letters, too little time to say it back. 

Two minutes felt like decades as the air in the room grew thick, as did the tears that threatened to fall. 

Cas was gone. 

Dean felt empty, though he guessed his angel dealt with the same quite literally. 

There were no sentences to structure in his mind, none fell from his lips. His legs with their deep bow were tense and pulled taut. He was shot with an arrow, straight to the heart. 

Moments passed on that cold cement floor. He eventually got up, with no real will of leaving the room. The wall that was filled with black not so long ago appeared normal to the naked eye, but Dean couldn't unsee Castiel being dragged away into nothing. 

_I love you._

It was a promise, a confession, a goodbye. 

Twelve years weren't enough for him to realize his true feelings, and he would regret that for as long as his sore eyelids stayed open. 

He was the one thing Cas wanted, but supposedly couldn't have. _Goddammit,_ the angel had him already. 

Dean was wrapped around his finger. Completely enthralled by a being with so much power inside. With too much compassion for humanity. 

He didn't say it back. 

The wooden table he rested his freckle-dusted arms upon was freezing. It all felt too numb. Too much. And nothing. 

The steel blade glistened under the lamp's light, begging him to carve. 

The initials stared at him like a judge. 

**D.W.**

**S.W.**

**M.W.**

One was missing. 

Hell, he could carve a thousand names into the wood and it wouldn't feel like enough. 

It was a slow and agonizing process. The wood chipped away and splinters covered the table as he worked to eventually get a letter carved. 

**C.**

It wasn't right. Not yet. 

With a heavy chest and eyes stinging so hard he almost dropped the blade, he dug the knife straight into the wood and felt every emotion build when it all came together. 

**C.W.**

_I love you too._


End file.
